


A Familiar Feeling

by secluded_delusions



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Brooding, Clack, Clerith, Existentialism, F/M, Heartbreak, Hurt, Love, M/M, Memory Loss, Mild Blood, One Shot, Pain, Past, Possible changes in tense, Repressed Memories, i wrote this to deal with the crap at work that is making me very upset and depressed, mild violence, so this is a bit of a downer fic, updated sept 14 2016, zakkura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:12:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7691131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secluded_delusions/pseuds/secluded_delusions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clouds’ last thoughts are wondering why the emotions he’s experienced today are so recognizable.  It doesn’t make sense, he’s never loved anyone else like he’s loved her before...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Familiar Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Edit - 9.14.2016. I have just updated this, changed up the sentences, added and took away a few things. Nothing too major. I just hope that it creates a better flow, and I hope that it's still poetic but not as needlessly wordy as before. I also may post a followup fic to this when Cloud regains his memories and how that affects him, but I'm not sure when that will happen. Subscribe to me to get a notification when that does happen.  
> \---  
> Work is a very negative and toxic place for me at the moment, so I decided to see if I could write something to help cope with the depression I have because of work, since I have been unable to churn out any new drawings which usually helps me cope (which isn't depressing enough). I'm currently looking for a new job, but I can't afford to quit this one right now until I have another job secured, so I have to tough it out at this place for a while longer. But I digress.
> 
> There may be possible changes in tense. Also, if you have an constructive criticisms to help improve my writing I will appreciate it. It's been years since I've really sat down and wrote anything, so I'm still rusty, as well as any other comments or just kudos - it's all appreciated.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.  
> Thanks for reading.

He stands in the cool water long after her body fades from view, his glowing azure eyes lost in a void only they can see. Bare cerulean trees surround the water. They radiate white at night from their own bioluminescence and he would marvel at them if it weren't for his current situation. This whole forgotten place feels surreal and ethereal, as old and as ancient as the planet itself. A mystical place abandoned to the tragedy of its people, lost to time and erosion.

She has been taken from him – from them all – in a clandestine flash by a sword. A sword just as infamous as the man who wields it. A man once revered as a war hero – the Silver General, thought to be dead – stood right in from of him tangible and alive. Long silver hair flows about him, and his cold turquoise eyes, with cat-like pupils, pierce unflinching into his own. A man gone insane, destroying almost everything that matters to Cloud.

She doesn’t make a noise when that long blade perforates her abdomen. She glances at him, emerald eyes bright, face calm and serene, a smile graces her lips - for a moment her expression divulges a sense of knowing. He doesn’t understand what her expression means. She seems at peace, but he can’t dwell on that as his breath catches in his chest. Time seems to slow to painful agony as he watches that sword withdraw from her body, unable to do anything. He catches her as she falls and he could feel the prickle of tears in his eyes. His stomach twists as if threatening to force the bile out, his heart crushes inside his ribs. The pain makes him keel over.

He isn’t given time to grieve as the Silver General gifts Cloud and his comrades with a piece of an alien monster to fight with before fleeing. An alien responsible for the loss of the people who once lived in this place thousands of years ago when it collided with this planet. The intruder, Jenova, can manipulate its host to do its bidding, wreaking havoc wherever it goes. Its cells reside inside both Cloud and Sephiroth, as a result of a science experiment in the past which both men had no choice but to be a part of.

When the fight is over, Cloud cradles Aeriths’ lifeless form in his arms, sobs wrack his body and soul. The indignation affixed towards Sephiroth for what he did has long since faded with that battle. All that remains is dejection. His comrades speak words of prayer in the hopes that her spirit will return to the planet to bring life anew elsewhere. Bidding their farewells to her, they leave, one by one. It’s then that Cloud decides to let her body rest in the pond surrounded by trees.

He stays in the water for an indeterminate amount of time – it may have been hours, or minutes, Cloud doesn't pay attention. His physical and emotional condition bares semblance of depletion. The tightness in his chest and the sickening knot in his stomach that made it hard to breathe earlier has dulled. He feels hollow. His comrades left him to his lamentations and made their way back to the conch shell hut far from the pond he now occupies. He is numb and worn out; the recent outpour of emotions leaves his body exhausted and his breaths laboured. His nose plugged from the discharge, his mouth dry because of it, and his tongue is feeling too big for comfort. Cloud's eyelids are swollen from crying. It stings to keep his eyes open but he refuses to close them as he fixates on the spot where her body disappears. The ripples in the water around him hypnotizes, drowning him deeper into his ruminations. An incessant pounding aggravates his head and his lethargy.

If only he were there sooner, if only he could resist Sephiroths’ and Jenovas’ influence. If only he were stronger, better… He’s a failure no matter how hard he…

Failure..?

No! He is SOLDIER, First Class – he isn’t a failure! He’s got the Mako eyes and the uniform to prove it! He’s celebrated, he…

A gentle and comforting presence weighs down onto Cloud’s shoulder, and causes him to snap out of it and whirl around. 

Nothing.

Cloud catches his breath as frantic eyes search for signs of another person near him. He is positive he felt a hand on his shoulder but there isn’t anyone behind him. Shaking his head, he splashes cool water onto his face to break the strange sensation overcoming him. He decides to make his way back to the hut where the others are staying to get some much needed rest.

No one says a word to each other, each person dealing with the grief in their own ways. Cloud isn’t complaining – he doesn’t feel like talking to anyone about what occurred. Clouds’ last thoughts are wondering why the emotions he’s experienced today are so recognizable. It doesn’t make sense, he’s never loved anyone else like he’s loved her before. He stretches out on the bed, the only sounds in the hut are the breathing and shifting of the others in their beds. A heavy gloom settles over them all like a blanket, and greets them with sleep.

Blackness. Complete silence. An unending abyss. Is this death?

A sudden, searing pain burns throughout his body.

Eyelids fling open but he can’t make anything out, his vision is blurry. His body has undergone something strenuous but he doesn’t know what has happened. Blond hair sticks to his face, obscuring his eyes and exacerbating his perception. He opens his mouth to call out a name. He forces a scream out as hard as his body would allow – but nothing comes out, not even a squeak. Wet, squishy earth climbs up around fingers as he clenches his fists tight. The cold ground and chilling rain is welcome against heated flesh, but the heavy downpour only worsens the throbbing in his head.

He struggles to get up onto his knees, but the slick dirt won’t give him leverage and he falls back onto his stomach, coughing and gasping for air. Crawling forwards, he grabs onto whatever pieces of dead grass and shrubs as he can, but everything is wet and slippery. The process is sluggish and torturous – the mud is heavy and weighing him down. It is then he’s aware his legs aren’t moving – he’s just pulling himself through thick muck – but he keeps going, trying to find... trying to find…

Cloud is able to prop himself on his elbows and forearms. His eyes begin to focus and he makes out the shape of a body lying in the mud just a few feet in front of him. Something inside of him makes him pause for a moment, dreading what he will find when he gets closer to it. But he just has to know despite this ominous foreboding growing in the pit of his stomach. It clamps down and wrenches his insides almost to the point of nausea, but he must know.

He manages to pull himself up, kneeling, hands splayed in front of him for support, when his heart stops upon seeing that body riddled with bullet holes. The earth and rain water on the ground surrounding both of them awash with the blood of this person. Is he still… alive?

Cloud sees a face he doesn’t recognize. A face marred with dirt and blood, with a scar on his right cheek, yet it doesn’t detract from the handsomeness of it. A shock of long black hair complements those features as striking violet eyes gaze upwards at Cloud. Eyes that glow – faint and losing life – but glow none-the-less, just like his own. The man is saying something but Cloud cannot hear a thing. The headache is still pounding hard, his ears inaudible to the environment around him. Only the sound of static echoes within. 

Cloud tries to speak but no words come out. The man reaches a hand upwards, resting that palm on the back of Clouds’ neck, and pulls the blonds’ face towards his punctured and bleeding chest. Clouds’ heart seizes like a hand is squeezing it – the shock forcing the air out of Clouds’ lungs; he can’t think straight. 

The man shoves the handle of a giant sword into Cloud’s hands, his mouth moving but no words are coming out. Violet eyes close, a face at rest, and it feels like eternity when Cloud finally catches his breath. Clouds' hearing returns in full force and everything is so loud it elicits a sharp throb from his headache. Something shatters inside of Cloud, and upon staring up into the sky, tears streaming down his face, he screams into the Heavens as loud as he can. His voice cracks a few times but he continues his cries of agony and sorrow. The loneliness and abandonment adds to this hollow and broken feeling that overwhelms Cloud like never before. 

Cloud wakes with a gasp. He bolts upright in his bed and clutches his chest, it takes him a few minutes to calm his breath. He looks around to make sure he hasn’t woken anyone up, and decides to head outside of the hut for some fresh air.

Leaning against the conch shell house, he runs his hand through his blonde spikes and sighs. A figure perched atop the little hut acknowledges Cloud.

“Can’t sleep?” a deep though soft voice breaks the silence of this otherworldly city.  
“Nightmares. You?”  
“Nightmares,” the voice responds, a hint of amusement at the allusion to their first meeting, “Care to talk about it?”  
“No.” Cloud says.  
Vincent hums, whether in sympathy or chagrin Cloud can’t tell, before gracefully hopping down to the ground next to the blond. He offers Cloud a modest nod goodnight before entering the hut. Cloud is alone again.

Cloud sinks down onto his haunches. He drops his face into his hands, the memory of the dream still so vivid and lucid, haunting his senses and psyche so much he’s shaking. He knows Sephiroth can alter the memories of those infected with Jenova’s cells, so that must be it. It is impossible that he feels as much love for that man as much as he has for Aerith, yet never having seen that man before in his life. He can’t love someone he’s never met before, knowing nothing about them and still experiencing this level of heartbreak. But, it’s so familiar it perturbs him.

Cloud brings his knees to his chest and rests his head in his arms. He sits like that for a while, mulling over the dream and his feelings, trying to make sense of it all. 

A warm, friendly presence envelopes him, and Cloud welcomes the rare moment of peace this brings. He can feel two warm bodies on either side of him, one soft, the other strong, both comforting and intimate. He looks up and sees a field of yellow lilies that stretches on for miles into the distance, with nothing else but white. The change of scenery so jarring to what Cloud just saw moments ago that it jerks him up onto his feet and… 

He’s back in the Forgotten City. Abandoned and broken shell huts lie amidst the rubble of the aftermath of the calamity that befell this place, only a few remain intact enough to use as makeshift housing.

He gasps for breath, his heart a jackhammer against his ribs. Cloud thinks Sephiroth is nearby trying to trick Cloud with one of his illusions, though somewhere deep in the darkest depths of Clouds’ subconscious he knows that isn’t it. Visibly jolted, Cloud gazes out into the landscape to make sure he is where he thinks he is, and turns to go back inside the hut with the others.

He needs to get some more rest, completely exhausted from the events of today.

What else could happen?

**Author's Note:**

> Edit - 9.14.2016  
> I want to thank [cream_pudding](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cream_pudding) for their help editing this, for the time and effort and suggestions for improvement.   
> Thank you so much.


End file.
